For a while, the others talked about John in hushed voices, their grief evident. I felt a bit like an outsider, that had intruded on something… intimate, personal. And it was made worse by the fact that I had been the harbinger of the bad news.

But they didn’t blame me. Even better, they seemed to appreciate knowing - it gave them certainty and closure.

In the end, Betsy said a quick prayer for John, and everyone mumbled their amen. And just like that, the group seemed to have come to terms with the death and was ready to move on. At first, I found that a bit strange. I mean, this had been, if not their friend, then at least their group member. Someone they knew and apparently had liked.

But I also realized that while I had been stuck by myself in the depth of the dungeon, life had not stopped for other people. They had seen men and women, friends, perhaps even family struggle, die, or just vanish. And while a week doesn’t seem like much time to adjust to all of this, it might, at least, make people numb to it. Surely, there was a lot of subconscious shit going on, grieving, doubts, blaming others and themselves... and it would take time to work through all of these issues, perhaps requiring professional help at some point, but, at least superficially, life just went on for the time being.

And there probably was some selection bias as well… those that couldn’t adjust to the changes in this world, couldn’t accept that violent death was a daily part of this new life would not be part of one of these training groups, getting ready to fight, explore, and brave deadly monsters.

As the conversation turned back to life in general, the ins and outs of the situation in Lake Placid, and their progress in developing new skills, I was able to get a better picture of where I was in comparison to my fellow Americans.

Most people that took part in the training offered by Chad and his group had achieved a solid mana cycle and trained up some of their attributes. A group of about one hundred people had managed to level up as well, with the highest apparently at level ten, sitting right beneath the threshold of reaching the next rank. Which confirmed my theory that there indeed was something beyond the novice rank.

“So, what are like, I don’t know, normal attribute points then?” I asked out of curiosity.

Ben stapled his fingers for a moment and then responded. “So, the average score of people was roughly eleven or twelve right after the transition, with some of the athletes having physical scores substantially better.”

He cleared his voice and then continued. “I think the high score was right around,” he turned to the others for confirmation. “A twenty or twenty-one for endurance for one of the triathletes, right?”

“Yeah,” Sue responded somewhat grudgingly. “Nancy. She is a bit of a bitch, though.”

“Right,” Ben said without commenting further. “Anyway, since then, many of us have trained like crazy and leveled up by fighting some monsters.”

“Or got handed free mana,” Sue complained sourly.

“Or that,” Ben acknowledged, slightly irritated by the interruptions.

“Where was I… well, so obviously, training doesn’t get you that far within a week, but people have been investing their points to push those scores significantly higher.”

“Those points… like from leveling up?”

“Exactly – anywhere between three and seven points for starting the mana cycle, and, for some, another one or two points for each subsequent level.”

“So, what is the normal rate there?” I asked, eager to put my own gains in perspective. I kinda hoped that I wasn’t somehow at the bottom of the pecking order in terms of bonus points.

“It is not as if there are official statistics…,” Ben said slowly, looking at the others for help. “In fact, most people don’t really share their stats with others.”

Jimmy cleared his voice and then said: “Based on the cases I do know about, I’d think about thirty percent gain no points, and the other people get one point for each level, with the exception, perhaps, of the members of the elite fighting unit, or EFU as they call themselves.”

“Pretentious jerks, the whole lot of them,” Sue grumbled, and even Betsy frowned a bit, clearly not enamored with the group either.

“Yes, yes, Sue, we all know your thoughts about them,” Ben said in an exasperated voice. “You should talk it out with Nancy and Avinash sometime, you know? Like adults?”

“Yeah, fat chance,” Sue muttered. “They can shoot, well stab themselves, for all I care. And that cunt Liz as well.”

For the first time, Tom got involved in the conversation, having sat on the side for most of the discussion, idly poking a stick into the fire. “Sue, stop using that filthy language.”

“What? Cunt? ‘Cun’t’ stand cunt? Should I use pussy instead? Pussy Liz? You like that better? You know, Tom, that just doesn’t sound right. And I can’t call her a dick… so cunt it is! And fuck off, will ya? I just hate that bitch.”

Tom’s only reaction was to roll his eyes and continue poking the glowing amber.

Jimmy, meanwhile, coughed into his fist, in a way that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter. “So, Daniel, I am sure you have already figured out that Sue has a history with some of the members of the EFU.”

“More like all of them,” Sue said snappishly.

“We,” Jimmy waved his hand, indicating Ben, Tom, and Betsy, “think that the reason is that she almost made it into the group, but then failed one of the tests. So… in other words, it is unmitigated jealousy!”

“Fuck jealousy,” Sue growled. “I just… don’t like them, alright? They didn’t have to laugh about me the way they did.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy said, smiling. “That was quite mean of them. Kind of immature, right?”

“Fuck you as well, Jimmy,” Sue snorted, but then had to grin as well. “Well, screw them. We’re gonna overtake them real soon anyway, special treatment or not. And then we’ll see who is laughing.”

For a while, no one said anything, instead quietly munching on their cold food. It wasn’t an awkward pause, Sue’s outburst notwithstanding, but more one of contemplation. At least for me. The world used to have a structure, a certain order to it, where those with money tended to rule. Now… all that money bought you exactly nothing. No one cared about the once-mighty greenback, how many houses you had somewhere in California, or what your stock market portfolio looked like. No, your social standing in this new world was determined by… well, by what? Martial prowess? Skills in magic? Leadership ability? Or, perhaps, who your friends where? Schmoozing with those foreigners seemed a good way to climb the social ladder unless it meant that people resented you for it.

Soon everyone was done eating, and Ben decided that it was safe enough to light a fire since the smoke was not going to be visible any longer in the dark. We settled comfortably around the mesmerizing flames before Ben turned toward me.

“So, Daniel, what is your plan going forward?”

I didn’t answer immediately. What was I going to do? This new world was… well, a new world. Limited and limitless at the same time. It was clear that I needed to get stronger, independent. But beyond that? Surviving as a long-term goal seemed somewhat… uninspired. There had to be more.

Exploration?

There was a whole new world out there, and without planes and cars, one could probably spend a lifetime just traveling. Unless portals were ubiquitous. But even then, how big was this Miranda? As big as Earth?

And then there was Annie… I wasn’t entirely sure what to think about her, how much to trust my current emotions. For that, I probably had to meet her in person and figure out what was what. As little as I had thought about her while stuck in the dungeon, maybe I wasn’t as much into her as I had thought.

But probably Ben wasn’t even asking about long-term plans…

“Well, if you don’t mind… I would like to get some rest here tonight. It would be nice to have the safety of additional people around me. Beyond that… originally, I wanted to hunt those gars, but it now seems that there are simply too many around to effectively go after them by myself. So instead, I’ll get back to Lake Placid, recover a bit and do some training.”

I pointed at my legs and arms. “As you can see, and as Sue has pointed out frequently,” I glared at her, “I’m not in the best physical shape right now. But I know for a fact that this can be trained very quickly since the advent of the system.”

“Yeah, we have been told that this happens when you start cycling mana,” Jimmy said from the side while inspecting the sword Sue had brought back to the group.

“Oh? So this is a well-established fact? Why does it happen?” I asked curiously.

Jimmy stepped back and did a practice swing with the sword, using a technique that more resembled swinging a baseball bat than anything else. “Well, from what Deklajan has said, it has something to do with the imprint of the body-image of our mind on the mana.”

“And what is that supposed to mean? I understand the relevance of image for mana effects… but how does that matter?”

“So, the way I understood it,” Jimmy responded, watching with rapt attention how the blade swished through the air while reflecting the dancing flames from the little campfire, “we have this subconscious image of our body, and the mana works to reestablish that state if there is a mismatch between the image and reality.”

“Huh, interesting,” I muttered. “So then… if you believe you are ugly and your nose is too big, it will actually happen?”

“If your mind really perceives it that way… then yes, I suppose. But I think it doesn’t deviate too much from the objective image that we have seen of ourselves in the mirror. So, it isn’t as if everyone suddenly turns ugly as hell if they have self-esteem issues. But it does have the effect that we heal wounds much more quickly than usual and if you lose a lot of body fat, or muscle tissue, due to some sickness or accident, but your mind doesn’t quite see you like that you can achieve a faster return to your mind-consistent self.”

“Hmm, I see. That matches well with my experience,” I said.

“Have you been wounded?” Betsy asked curiously from the side.

“A few times, yes,” I responded carefully. “And I have built muscle quite quickly, doubling my strength within a couple of days, which now makes more sense.”

Sue burst out laughing. “You doubled your strength? Oh my fucking god, how skinny have you been before? But then again…,” she smirked, “it is easy to double if there isn’t anything to start with.”

“Yeah, yeah, Miss Cutie-Pie, I got it… I am skinny, ugly, and weak. Something new?”

Jimmy began to guffaw. “Cutie-pie! I love it! And you are in serious trouble now, Daniel.”

“Shut up, Jimmy,” Sue grumbled. “And you, Daniel, no more cutie anythings, got it? Otherwise, I am going to punch you.”

“Whoa,” I raised my hands, taking a step back. “So that is your trigger, huh? Good to know, cu-...”

I trailed off when I saw her glare at me.

“You are living dangerously!” Sue snarled. “Don’t think I’m not gonna punch you.”

“Is she always like that?” I whispered to Ben before turning to Sue. “Relax,” I said in a calming voice. “I was just teasing you… “

And, to be honest, I was a bit worried.

Sure, she did obviously exaggerate her reaction, but there was a core of true emotion in there. Her whole grousing about the EFU had seemed a bit overblown, as was this reaction to my teasing. Did she genuinely have anger issues? She sure looked a bit annoyed, and, perhaps, pretended to be even madder so… that no one understood that she was actually angry? Like, reverse psychology or something? Or did she have underlying insecurity issues? I just couldn’t get a good read on her, and that made her behavior slightly disconcerting.

“Sue, quit it already, will you?” Ben snorted, trying to suppress his laughter, but only partially succeeding. “Daniel, as I am sure you’ve already figured out, Sue is kinda mercurial. But you get used to her mood switches and learn about her triggers. Usually, she is quite sweet, and she is a good friend, so try not to provoke her, alright?”

“Sure thi-“

I stopped talking when I heard a noise, somewhere down the canyon. Perhaps it had just been a loose stone dropping from the rim of the canyon after years of balancing precariously on the edge. But just maybe it had been something different. Something more worrisome.

And I realized that we had been awfully noisy, lured into complacency by the homy feeling of the canyon walls around us, and the warmth and crackling of the campfire. It was a remote location, far from where anyone would live, but we should have remembered that there might be monsters around, and gars…

The others had heard it too, and immediately grabbed their weapons, the gaudy showpiece sword for Ben, Tom with his aluminum and fiberglass modern-era bow, and the newly acquired weapons from the dead gars in the hands of Betsy, Sue, and Jimmy.

After a brief hesitation, Tom took a handful of arrows and climbed back up the boulder next to the entrance. In the meantime, Ben shoved some sand into the fire, and Betsy conjured water out of nothing, drenching the sand and still glowing ambers until no more light was visible, apart from the bright moonlight, which doused the whole area in a silvery dreamlike light.

By then, Sue and Jimmy had already melted into the darkness, finding hiding spots behind a bush and one of the boulders close by.

Instead of hanging back somewhere, I activated Midnight Skin and moved closer to the entrance area, hoping to catch a glimpse of what we were dealing with, if anything. Not that I could see beyond the next bend of the canyon… but at least I would have some advance warning rather than none.

After a minute without noise, I began to relax, figuring that indeed it must have been a stone dropping from a crumbling cliff or, perhaps, a nocturnal animal prowling the night, causing a rock to tumble down.

But then I heard more noises.

And this time, it was clear, this was not just a stone randomly falling. In fact, I now could make out the sound of metal clanging against stone, and the noise of rocks shifting and grinding against the soft limestone at the bottom of the canyon as if someone was moving through the winding gorge without too much worrying about masking their presence.

And there was a noise that sent shivers down my spine – sniffing and high-pitched wines, claws clicking against the stone ground, interspersed by an almost subvocal growl, reverberating through the stale air inside the canyon.

Before I could relay the new information to the others, I saw a light suddenly appear around the bend of the canyon, illuminating the ochre-colored stone of the narrow gorge and causing shadows to appear in a macabre twisting dance as if foreshadowing our doom. And then the ugly, square-shaped, half reptilian head of a reaver dog appeared around the corner, straining hard against a wickedly barbed collar as its claws scrabbled for purchase on the smooth rock.

A second later, another reaver dog appeared, similarly constrained from taking off, only to be followed by their two gar handlers and another four heavily armed henchmen.

Immediately, I shrunk back into the shadows behind the boulder, readying my sword. We could have tried to make a run for it, but I didn’t like our chances. A few of us might make it out, but I was almost positive that they would catch someone.

And that someone just might be me.

While the Midnight Skin gave me unmatched camouflage capabilities, those would hardly be useful in the narrow canyon, especially against creatures operating on smell rather than vision, like those reaver dogs. And given my low fitness, there was no way I could keep ahead of the gars, and even less the reaver dogs if it came to a chase. Sure, my ability to see in the dark, gave me an edge if we could kill the hounds, but I figured that just might not be enough. Especially with a full moon lighting the area that brightly.

No, best to use our advantage of position and ambush them when they did not suspect anything.

That was, of course, assuming that they didn’t know exactly where we were.

Clearly, they were weary. Perhaps they had heard us earlier. Or someone had seen the little camp from the rim of the canyon. Or they picked up on the excitement of the reaver dogs… But, chances were that we could still surprise them somewhat.

Either way, those dogs needed to go first because they negated my advantage of being able to hide in the shadows.

I moved back a few steps, keeping to the edge of the huge boulder and waited for my chance.

Moments later, the first reaver dog, straining on its leash and with saliva dripping down its vicious-looking maw, came around the corner, shortly followed by the second one.

I was still considering my odds of success if attacking them straight on when I heard an arrow whistle through the night, hitting one of the reaver dogs right in the neck, paralyzing it immediately. The other hound howled in sudden alarm, only to be cut short when the tip of my sword pierced its ribcage. With something that sounded in between a whimper and a vicious snarl, it bit down on the blade, trying to tear it out of its body, but only managed to injure itself further.

And then the gars rushed through the narrow passage into our campsite, screaming furiously. The first gar was greeted by another arrow in the face and dropped to the ground without a sound, but the other five simply trampled over the body in their rush to get into the campsite.

I scrambled backward to get out of the way, but not quickly enough. Despite my Midnight Skin, one of the gars had clearly noticed me and jumped right after me, ax ready to smash into my frail body.

The other four gars spilled into the open area, looking for other people to attack. And luckily, Ben jumped out of cover because otherwise, they might have all turned on me.

Out of nowhere, a gale-force wind appeared, propelling Ben toward the gar in the lead with frightening speed. Despite the sudden attack, the gar was able to turn sideways and bring up his weapon to defend itself. Swords clanging against each other, they were soon engaged in a frantic exchange of rapid sword-strikes, with speed clearly favoring Ben, but fighting skill and strength on the side of the gar.

The remaining three gars were about to help their comrade against Ben when Betsy and Sue stormed out of their hiding spots and attacked them from behind. Instead of getting involved in the fight, Jimmy was standing a bit off to the side, looking uncertain what to do with the sword in his hand, or perhaps not sure where to move.

But then I had to focus all of my attention on just staying alive. The gar coming after me slashed its ax in short, controlled arcs, each strike powerful enough to maim or outright kill me, but not exposing the gar to an easy counterattack. Clearly, the gar was a skilled fighter, with plenty of experience on how to fight against someone with a sword. It was only due to Midnight Skin that I managed to survive those first few exchanges. While it did not outright hide me from the gar, it made it much harder for it to fight me effectively.

Sadly, I wasn’t able to really take advantage of that, apart from managing to not get killed. Which was, of course, pretty important. But the outcome of this fight seemed inevitable if it kept going like this - I could already feel my arm tremble slightly, and my reaction became more sluggish.

I needed to end the fight quickly.

Running out of time, I pulled my dagger with my left hand while sidestepping the next attack and tossed it with an underhanded throw at the face of the gar. Ordinarily, that was an almost useless attack given my lack of strength and pathetic left-hand dexterity, but the glittering dagger suddenly materializing out of the darkness, going straight for its face momentarily caused the gar to flinch back and focus on evading the surprise attack.

And that was the opportunity I needed.

I lunged forward and rammed my sword into the gut of the gar, causing it to double over in pain. It feebly clutched at the blade with its fingers, trying without real strength in his fingers to dislodge the weapon. But I wasn’t having any of that and instead pushed the blade even further, straining against the tough flesh of my adversary.

Once I was sure that the gar was out of the fight, I stepped back and quickly surveyed the battlefield. Just as I was looking, Betsy managed to stab the tip of the spear into the leg of one of the gars, making it lower its weapon as it flinched in pain. The perfect opportunity for Sue to finish the creature off. And indeed, she swung her ax with frightening speed at its head, only to swerve last second and instead cut a superficial wound across its chest.

Shit. She got the jitters. Or perhaps some untimely bout of empathy. What was wrong with that girl?

At least, Betsy didn’t freeze and pulled her spear back, ready to stab again. And while the two girls were trying to bring down their opponent, Ben was dancing around the remaining gars, not making much progress in killing them but managing to keep their attention on trying to take him out.

Intermittently, I heard the twang of Tom’s bow as he tried to support Ben or the girls, but he obviously had a hard time finding a clear target.

And Jimmy… he still hadn’t entered the fight. Just as I was about to shout angrily at him to get his butt into the action, he raised his hands, and I saw ice crystals shimmer into existence in the air in front of him. A split second later, I heard something that sounded like hundreds of little crystal chimes rushing past me, followed by a wave of freezing air. One of the gars going after Ben grunted in pain as its back was peppered by dozens of sharp icicles, causing blood to freely run down its skin.

But it wasn’t enough to take the gar out of the fight.

And then it happened.

Ben was momentarily distracted by the magic show and failed to notice the sword of the second gar until it was almost too late. In the last split-second, Ben managed to somehow twist his sword around to block the heavy blow, but the force and angle were such that his cheap showpiece-sword broke in the middle, and the strike continued to cut a deep wound across his right leg. With a shout of pain, Ben stumbled backward, and when his injured leg buckled under his weight, he went down in a heap.

With a scream of rage mixed with panic, Sue jumped forward, slashing her ax horizontally at such speed that it disappeared in a silvery blur before hitting the gar in the middle of the back, cleanly cutting through its spine.

But that left Betsy alone against the gar. And it was clear that she would need some help. Immediately, I moved closer, attempting to sneak up from behind and finish the gar before it noticed me coming. As I covered the few yards, the gar pressured Betsy with a series of powerful strikes of its ax, forcing her backward until she was with the back to the canyon wall.

The panic in her eyes was obvious, as was her resolve to keep on fighting, to defend herself as best as she could. She raised her spear defiantly, daring the gar to come and finish her. But before that could happen, the tip of my sword pierced through its ragtag armor with the full force of my body behind. Which was just enough power to push the blade far enough to be lethal.

The last gar still standing, bloodied by crystals and all, realized the overwhelming odds it was facing, turned around, and rushed off toward where they had come from.

“Tom, shoot him,” I shouted, worried that the gar might alert others of our presence.

The twang of the bow was clearly audible, as was the pained grunt from the gar, but that didn’t stop it from running, and soon it disappeared around the bend of the canyon.